I Am Samurai
by Seeker of the Soul
Summary: Honor. Life. Death. Bushido. Hitokiri. Are these merely words, or do they truly have meaning? We all must determine our own philosophy. So read on, and find yours within its words. Find your path as I have. Find the truth.
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: I do not own Rurouni Kenshin. I do however own all original characters, unless stated otherwise, that appear in this work of fiction. Please enjoy. 

**I Am Samurai**

_The Tale Of The Hitokiri Who Would Not Kill And The Samurai Who Wished To Die_

The Meiji government had killed the samurai. They were no longer allowed to exist, and anyone caught wearing a sword in public or calling themselves samurai would be arrested. Bit by bit they were crushing out the last vestiges of the once revered samurai way. The Way of the Warrior. Bushido.

During the war there were four renowned assassins, the Hitokiri. None could match their skill, and they could kill anyone at all. These four men killed more men then some armies had and had done so without remorse. They were heartless killers of awe-inspiring skill.

Bushido teaches us about death, it teaches us about death and about life. For the samurai, Bushido is in itself, life. Long had the people of Japan been taught the old legends. That Izanagi and Izanami had forged the isles of Japan as they pulled their blade free from the waters, allowing only four drops of water to fall back in.

These Hitokiri made themselves above Bushido. They ignored its code and killed those who needed killing and cared not for honorable combat. They became worse even then the ninjas, who also killed in shadow. Where ninjas killed for money, the Hitokiri killed in shadow because they were told to, and they did so mercilessly, killing even the innocent who got in the way.

If a peasant takes up a blade and attacks me, do I kill him? Bushido teaches us that this peasant, who is not samurai, wishes a death as honorable as the death of any samurai, and so I should grant him that death. Bushido is honor, and in many cases death itself is an honor.

Four hitokiri, and amongst them one was worse then the others. A man whose name no-one knew, a man who was the perfect killer. His blade struck all opponents down in the first stroke. He never failed. Upon his blade many hundreds if not thousands of men, women, and children met their fate. He became known as the Hitokiri Battousai, the most legendary of the four manslayers.

Bushido had taught me well, and in all my life it had never failed me. Even when my honor was stripped from me, my sword taken, my topknot removed, my title as samurai and all my family's lands.even then it did not fail me. I did not falter off the path of Bushido. The law told me that the sword was not mine to take up. Bushido told me otherwise.

My blade, the blade of a samurai, has taken the lives of many. Taken them in the name of honor, in the name of all samurai. We had become a dying race and I had chosen to spill the blood of every imperialist I could before my life was taken. If I fell in battle, it would be with honor, it would be as a samurai should.

Almost ten years had passed since the war had ended. Almost ten years since the end of all samurai began. Over nearly ten years I had made life as difficult as I could for the Imperialists, but they hardly felt it. I wasn't even a thorn in their side.

During those years I learned an interesting philosophy from a very strange man. He had eyes that burned with a great inner fire, and a body that was covered in bandages. He should have been dead; there was no way he could live on as he was. Yet still he walked and fought with a drive that I could never match.

I asked that man, Mokoto Shishio, exactly how he continued living. He told me that it was because he was strong that he was able to continue living. 'If you're strong you live, if you're weak you die.' This was that man's philosophy.

I studied this philosophy from every angle I could over the next few years after that meeting. I soon came to a conclusion of my own, and developed an adaptation of that philosophy, because I had learned that even the strongest of men die, for not matter how skilled you are, no-one can escape death.

'We live so that we may one day die. Live life for death's sake, so that when the death comes to claim us we may embrace it with honor, knowing that we had fulfilled the desires that the intertwining forces of life and death had set for us.'

I would die one day, that I knew. However my unwavering belief in my philosophy would be shaken by another strange man who had a philosophy of his own. I never believed for an instant that a hitokiri could have honor, that a hitokiri could see life as sacred. These thoughts were ludicrous, for how could any man who sees life as sacred have claimed the lives of so many?

I leave now, before my death comes to claim me, an account of my meeting with the Hitokiri Battousai, a man of legend. From this meeting I would find a new way of life, and to honor him I will leave this account so that others may one day know that every man that has shed blood, even the hitokiri, is more then a murderer.

Honor. Life. Death. Bushido. Hitokiri. Are these merely words, or do they truly have meaning? We all must determine our own philosophy. So read on, and find yours within its words. Find your path as I have. Find the truth.

Meaning is what we make of it. Life is what we make of it. A man who has killed more people then any other has more knowledge of life then any man I have ever met.

This tale begins as spring begins, just as the first sakura blossoms begin to bloom. It was from within this veil of pink blossoms that I first caught a glimpse of the man with the red hair and the cross-shaped scar. The man who is a legend.

Author's Notes: This is just the prologue. It was previously posted on my original name, but here it is. I'm removing it from that one and I intend to work on it again now that I've finally read all the Rurouni Kenshin manga. Unlike before I have no need of original characters. I've decided this will be utterly mine, and will be a pratice in the way of writing swordplay. An entirely different style of story than what I've written before. I hope you all enjoy it.


	2. What The Sakura Hides

Author's Notes: The first real chapter of I Am Samurai! Enjoy! 

**Chapter One: What The Sakura Hides**

Spring always brings with it the blessings of the sakura. Beautiful as they are the sakura fall to the ground in a rain of petals. They sooth even the fiercest soul. Any warrior can look upon them and be instantly calmed, finding peace within their depths.

This is how Notomori Hideki finds his way to the little side path of the small town of Mizu. Mizu holds virtually no importance, except for a few things that make it different from other towns it is hardly note worthy.

Hideki's intentions had been to march through the town and cut down the true supporters of the Meiji, those who chose to crush the samurai beneath their heels. But he had taken pause at hearing about the beautiful pathway with its arrangement of sakura trees. "One' soul cannot be in conflict with the body if the sword is to be used."

His left hand rests on the hilt of his sword, barely putting any pressure on it. The red sheath extends out behind him to a decent length, not as long as some blades but perfect for his purposes and style. He has dressed himself in blood red kamishimo, the traditional samurai's garb. He had found it easier to live on when the blood melded with his clothing.

"Now look what we have here, a vagabond with a sword." Hideki's eyes narrow at the sound of the cruel taunting voice. The distance is too great for it too be targeted at him, so the focus of these words must be someone else.

"Who other than I or another samurai would dare wear a sword in these times. I shall investigate." He marched forwards, his stride confident and smooth, the movements of a swordsman. The voices can be heard getting a little bit louder, five or six men's voices laughing at their target.

Hideki peered through the trees and came across a strange sight. In their dark blue informs with sabers at their side five policemen were surrounding a very unusual looking fellow. He did indeed have a blade sheathed at his side, but it was his appearance that was odd. He had red hair, and wore a pinkish haori. "Pink?"

"You know it's illegal to wear a sword in these times. Only those of us in the government gain that right. Why don't you remove it and come quietly, or we'll remove it for you." This brought another peal of laughter from the group of policemen. The red-haired man remained silent, and from this angle Hideki couldn't see his face. There was no telling what he was thinking.

"This sword won't harm anyone, that it won't." The leader of the officers, the one doing all the talking, snorted at these words. He put his face down at the sword-bearer's level and sneered at him. Hideki suppressed the instinct to dart out from behind the veil of sakura and separate the man's head from his shoulders. He wanted to see what the man in pink would do.

"You're right, it won't. Because you're nothing but a rogue samurai in modern times. Now get out of my sight and get rid of that sword. You samurai are nothing but scum." He gave the strange samurai a light shove, and the man's eyes bugged out as he stumbled backwards, his hand automatically going to the hilt of his blade. Hideki's eyes narrowed as he watched the man's actions.

"Oro?" As the odd samurai fell, his grip on his hilt pushing the sheath up so that the very end of it crashed into the police officer's chin. The officer let out a choked gurgle as he was knocked onto his back by the blow. The weird fellow on the other hand was now on his back with his leg twitching.

"He hit the Inspector! I saw we teach him a lesson." These words got mumbled agreements, and the Inspector was helped to rise. He rubbed his jaw and glared daggers at the samurai who had finally gotten back onto his own feet. Hideki smiled as he watched, knowing that the samurai's worth was about to be proved.

"I'm sorry, that I am. However I must request that you do not lash out at me. I have no intention of hurting anyone, so it would be best if you simply walked away. As I said before, my blade won't be hurting anyone. It won't kill anyone either." The red-haired samurai turned, and at this time Hideki got a glance at the man's cheek. On it was a cross-shaped scar, most likely from old sword wounds.

The man's back was turned, and because of that he didn't see the Inspector reach for his saber. He clenched it tight in his hand and Hideki saw the muscles in the man's arm tighten as he prepared to draw and take a swing with it. The samurai obviously had no intention of reacting, so it was time for Hideki to step in. "Remove your hand from your blade, or I'll remove your head from your shoulders. Furthermore, if you attempt to strike this man while his back is turned I will slay your fellow officers as well."

The Inspector took his hand off his saber and turned, seeing the black-haired Hideki approaching from beyond the veil of sakura. His garb and sword were quickly noted, and the policemen all placed themselves in front of him. Hideki noticed the other samurai turn to watch what was happening. "Would you like at this. Another vagabond samurai violating the laws of our country. I bet they're comrades, come to stir up trouble in this town."

"You are correct. I am samurai. So if you, a mere peasant, dare to raise your hand against me I shall strike you down where you stand." He felt some reaction from this from the other samurai, felt the man's gaze upon him. Yet he couldn't tell why he thought it was in anger. What would the samurai have to feel anger at him for? Shaking it off Hideki closed the distance so that only a few feet separated him and then Inspector.

"A peasant! That's it, I'm going to slice you in half for your impertinence!" The Inspector dropped his hand to the hilt of his saber and then suddenly jerked it backwards as if burned. He let out a terrifying scream and held up his arm, gripping his hand with his other hand. Blood flowed freely down his arm, and it became clear why. Three of the Inspector's fingers lay on the ground beneath him, covered in his own blood.

"I never even saw him draw his blade! Look, it's still in his sheath!" Hideki saw the red-haired man narrow his eyes at this display. Idly the samurai wondered if the man in pink had been able to follow his movements. If so, then he would have been the first. But it was doubtful.

"The next time one of your hands touches a hilt I'll decapitate you all in one swing. Is that understood?" One of the policemen growled and reached for his weapon, and there was a flash of light. It was as if time had just frozen, and Hideki's blade was also frozen in time. And yet it wasn't, it was frozen in place because it had just connected with another blade.

Hideki stared at the red-haired samurai standing in front of him. The man had blocked his stroke with his own! Not only had he covered several feet in mere moments he had been able to draw his blade and stop the strike as well. "Astounding...a true warrior's spirit. I can fill your sword ki flowing freely."

"I would like it if no more blood was spilled, that I would. Please, sheath your sword and move along. I won't allow anyone to be killed today." Hideki grimaced and pulled his sword back, sheathing it in one fluid motion. The other samurai did so as well, giving Hideki just enough time to take note of exactly what his weapon looked like.

The policemen, now being thoroughly ignored, turned tail and fled, crying out worthless threats as they left. "Your blade is reversed. So you were telling the truth when you said your sword wouldn't be killing anyone. You willingly carry a sword in these times that are unfriendly to the sword, and yet your sword's blade cannot kill. What sort of samurai are you?"

The man smiled a clueless looking smile. Yet Hideki knew he wasn't clueless. The man's actions moments ago proved that without a doubt. Even the 'accidental' blow that had been dealt to the Inspector had been carefully planned and implemented. "I'm no samurai. I'm just a wandering swordsman, that I am."

"I see. But you have a great swordsman's spirit. And you are the fastest man I've ever seen, even being capable of seeing the drawing of my blade. No man I've ever met has been capable of that. It is rare to find one who is able to counter the ability of Nukiuchi." Hideki smiled and brushed the hilt of his katana with one hand, thinking back to the split second reaction of the wanderer.

"The ability to draw your blade and attack in the same motion, in the same instant. It's a deadly skill indeed. And you performed it flawlessly. In fact, it was done at godlike speeds." The confident tone of voice that the wanderer now used impressed Hideki. The man was powerful indeed, but that didn't bother Hideki. He found it interesting to find someone like this in such a backwater town.

"But to counter the Nukuichi performed at godlike speed requires godlike speed of body, not just of the draw. But enough of that. I want to know why you saved the lives of such worthless scum. They are nothing but bullies of the Meiji Government, trying to intimidate others with their authority. They feel that now that the samurai have been cast down they can just walk on us, and I can't allow that. So tell me your reasons." The two swordsmen stared each other down. Well, Hideki stared the other man down, as he was a good foot taller. The other stared up.

"No person deserves to die, regardless of who they are. I'll fight to prevent another's death, even if that person is scum. To protect the life of others through the use of the sword, that is my goal." Neither one of them took their eyes of the other, and had anyone been nearby they would have felt it was hard to move, as their two sword spirits were clashing without either making a move.

"One must live life for the sake of dying at the right moment and with honor. Even scum like that can die a worthwhile death if it's at the moment. That is the truth of swordsmanship, that a swordsman lives life in order to die honorably." There came a pause, with tension practically crackling in the air.

Suddenly the tension broke and the red-haired swordsman broke into a big grin. "It seems our beliefs about swordsmanship and the worth of life are at odds. But our sword spirits seem to agree with each other. So I feel that somewhere in both of us there is a desire to do what is right."

"I feel the same. But perhaps neither of us will ever know which of us is correct. All I know is that I will live by my philosophy until death takes me. I will die honorably in the end...that I will." The two swordsmen shared a smile, knowing that no blows would pass between them. They would simply part ways, and remain intent on keeping their goals in mind.

"I am Notomori Hideki, master of Hakabakashii Hissatsu Style Swordsmanship. It has been interesting meeting you, and perhaps we will meet again. And maybe in that day we will cross swords." He drew his blade and extended it so that the tip was pointing directly at the pink-clothed warrior. The other man smiled and drew his reversed blade and let the tip touch Hideki's.

"I am Himura Kenshin, practitioner of the Hiten Mitsurugi Style. It has indeed been interesting to meet you. Hopefully when we meet again we won't be so much at odds in our beliefs in life. Try not to kill anyone though, and things will work out better." Hideki threw back his head and laughed. He hadn't been this amused in a long time.

He didn't stop laughing until Himura was gone, hidden by the veil of the sakura blossoms. "Himura Kenshin, a man who fights for the weak. You've caught my interest. If we do indeed cross paths once more I will fight with my all. And we will see which style is the greater, and whose philosophy of swordsmanship is correct. Hiten Mitsurugi or Hakabakashii Hissatsu." XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"So there are two samurai in town. And they scared off the Inspector and his thugs. Interesting. I never did like interesting things. Kill them both, I don't want there to be any chance of them getting in the way."

A group of figures bowed deeply to a man sitting at a desk, covered by the shadows. Then as one the group rose up and exited the room, leaving the man at the desk alone. "I hate interesting things. And a man with a cross-shaped scar...but no. Battousai is long dead, dead since the beginning of the Meiji."

Sighing the man turned his chair so that he was looking out through the window of his office. The wind rustling through the trees was calming, and he couldn't help but think of the sakura pathway that the men had been found at. They had always soothed him. "It's a pity. The purity of the sakura in the new spring will be tainted by blood before the day's end."

With a smile on his face the man leaned back in his chair and watched birds fly by his window. There was no point in worrying about it at all. Two rogue samurai wouldn't be any match for his private killers. Nothing would disturb the peace and perfection of Mizu or its hidden secrets for long. "Come tomorrow those two will be nothing but a whisper, an echo of a thought. They won't even be remembered by anyone." XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Author's Notes: Yeah, I know it's short. However this is just the first chapter, and it will get longer. Now I've introduced two characters, one of whom you should already know if you've seen or read Rurouni Kenshin. Notomori Hideki is my own creation, as is his style Hakabakashii Hissatsu.


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